TBDH : The Snape Circle
by Scioneeris
Summary: Side story to "There Be Dragons, Harry" Original SLASH version, featuring the Snape circle. How they met, mated and bonded and the missing scenes with them from TBDH. Threesome pairing at present. Contains SLASH. SeverusxDracoxOMC
1. Cause For Alarm

**Timeframe:**

Sixth Year at Hogwarts-1996.

**Summary:**

How the Snape Circle (Draco and Severus and Terius) met, mated and bonded and the glimpses of them missing from the original SLASH version of the fic, There Be Dragons, Harry. Threesome pairing at present.

**Pairings:**

Side pairings: Harry Potter x Theodore Nott x Charlie Weasley x Quinn Kalzik.

MAIN PAIRING: Draco Malfoy x OMC(Terius) x Severus Snape

Hermione x OMC

**Disclaimer: **

I do not own any Harry Potter anything. That belongs to J.K. Rowling. I just like playing with her characters in my own little world of storyville. I make no money by writing this fanfiction. All original characters are my own.

**Rating:**

M – Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16

**Author's Notes: **To celebrate reaching 1000+ reviews for the original There Be Dragons, Harry. I am starting up this little mini-side-fic for the Snape circle, so those interested in how the Snapes came about and to see more glimpses of the dragel interaction can enjoy it. It will feature mostly Severus, Draco and Terius-the other side characters will be mentioned in passing.

* * *

**WARNINGS: **Mature themes. Contains mentions of slash(m/m), moments/mentions of femslash(f/f), and Het (m/f). Scenes are not explicit as per FF guidelines. Full scenes are found in the version posted on AO3, when I get there. There will be slight hints of citrus. Use of Blood as a magical medium in generous portions. D/s Themes. Possible gore/torture in future chapters. Angst. Fluff. Perpetual Mystery. Abuse. Mpreg. Suicide. OC's. OOCness. Very AU. Other warnings will be added as I see fit.

* * *

**PART ONE : JUNE 1996**

"…that bloody miserable, manipulating _fool!_" Severus snarled. "Bastard of a-!" The rest of the curse was muttered beneath his breath in latin, as he stalked down the corridors in the Riddle Mansion.

The Death Eater mask chafed along the side of his face, particularly along one sensitive spot near his left ear, where he'd been in a hurry with the shaving spell. He was loathe to cast any healing spells as he knew fully well that a certain, sadistic dark lord, took great satisfaction in undoing any spells reeking of healing energies, just to see his followers squirm, if the urge struck him.

The Potions Master fairly few through the corridors, his robes billowing impressively behind him as his mind worked in overdrive, a singular goal in mind. He was sure, somehow, that he could tie this all back to that meddling fool by the name of Albus Dumbledore—sodding bastard!

Severus whirled to a halt outside the boundary for the far left wall. He could see the sentries exchanging whispered words, apparently news traveled quicker than he'd liked. His heart clenched painfully tight as he recalled a certain conversation he wished he hadn't been present for.

_Lucius, you bloody idiot…._

His friend hadn't dragged Narcissa into the mess, but Severus strongly suspected it was because the vain witch was just as smart as she was vain. Meaning, she would have secreted herself away and begun to put together a contingency plan of sorts.

Begun, he was sure, because if it had been complete, then Draco never would have been dragged into the meeting along with potential new recruits and forced to stand in line to wait for that wretched mark. Narcissa was vain, vapid and vicious—when she had a mind to be. Draco and Lucius were her sole reasons for existing at all, if it were within her power, then she never would have allowed Draco anywhere out of her line of sight, no matter what Lucius said.

Severus knew the blond well enough to note that no matter what Lucius said and did, his wife and son were everything to him—sort of. Lucius had always been something of the self-serving kind and if giving up Draco would let him keep his own miserable life and possibly Narcissa, then he'd give up Draco. After all, he was a wizard barely into his mid-life moments and there would be time and opportunity to produce another heir and romance his temperamental wife again, if Draco was a necessary sacrifice—then that was all there was to it.

Well, for Lucius anyway.

Severus knew a few things that his stupidly brilliant friend didn't. Something that Narcissa would certainly kill him for daring to breathe a hint or hair of such things. Something that meant that if he didn't use every single one of his little grey cells—his favored and only godson would die.

Lucius would be as good as dead if Narcissa still lived to know what a cowardly way out he'd taken. Severus swallowed the bile welling in the back of his throat. No, he took it back, Lucius hadn't been that weak, but at the business end of a wand—his strength or weakness hadn't mattered a whit. His only protest in Draco's defense—albeit late and half-hearted—had earned him a bloody death.

The talking guards at the far end separated and Severus drew himself up. He still held a high enough ranking that he could take his leave as he pleased, so as long as he had a good reason for doing so. His chest clenched tight, painfully so—he did have a good reason—the kind of reason he most certainly could never tell them.

When they looked up at his approach, he weighted his words with a touch of old magic he hadn't accessed in decades. "I am searching for a runaway recruit." He made as if to pass.

One of the guard's hands snaked out and caught him by the arm. "There are orders for no one to leave the grounds during-"

Severus calmly pulled away and walked past. He heard them draw their wands and he felt the words hanging in the air, the ones that would be spoken to give life to the spell that would certainly take his. He drew in a breath and blew it out.

He stepped over the boundary.

No alarms went off.

Two bodies fell to the ground in synchronized sound.

Severus did not turn back.

* * *

The thing about old magic was how it was more than just an old friend. The Potions Master relished briefly in the feel of drawing his natural talents around him. It fit like a glove, well-worn and perfectly sized, curling around him easily with every breath he took.

It was a half-gulp of air before Severus transformed into a swirling mass of blackness, stretching out and snaking through the bleak greenery. Draco had always been quick and light on his feet and of his wit. Severus hoped that was a talent that had continued to serve him well. Narcissa probably had something to do with it, but the secret shared between them was so deep and precious, that he never spoke of it and neither did she.

He could only hope for Draco.

He had yet to see him since the boy's sixteenth birthday—to see him properly, that is.

Lucius had seen it fit to drag him off as soon as possible.

Severus hadn't been able to determine what exactly his charming godson had become. If he'd had a little more time, he would have known, but a five minute chat via floo, was not exactly helpful nor productive. He'd sent his gift ahead of time as Albus had refused to give him the day off. Draco had called to offer his thanks—right as his father had dragged him off.

It was scarcely a handful of minutes later before Severus had received the summons for the meeting. Summons that he was both glad and horrified to have answered. Glad, because then he had been present to witness the reigning Malfoy both at his best and worst—and because he'd been able to see Draco. Horrified, when he'd learned _why_ both Malfoys were present and then when he'd realized what would happen.

With a flicker of his mind, Severus cast his senses out, as far as he could safely manage in his altered form. He drew on the winds to bring to him any snippets of sound, scent or magic and closed his eyes while disjointed images filtered through as the spell searched frantically according to the castor's orders.

A blur of white-silver-blond caught his eye and Severus felt his breath catch in his throat, along with several swiftly approaching dark shapes. The Potions Master came back to himself as the spell abruptly ended and he redirected the magical energy into propelling himself forward and faster towards the spot he had seen.

He willed himself to move like the element that was burned into his very being.

_Lucius, you bloody, selfish fool…_

* * *

Draco was injured, clutching his wand arm, his eyes wild and wide. He could not run and hide, it was much too late for something like that to happen now. He had run as far as he could manage, before the blood loss had begun to register.

He'd cast healing spells hastily and clumsily as he tromped through the woods, aware that he knew nothing of where he was and that appartition was out of the question unless he had a plan beyond where he wanted to pop into.

Of course, Severus was his first choice, but he could have sworn that he'd sensed his godfather's magic somewhere nearby in the Riddle Mansion. His hands shook, his wand arm hanging uselessly at his side. He'd either broken it or dislocated something, the pureblooded heir grimaced. Whichever it was, it hurt a great deal more than he'd bargained for.

But the exchange of his arm for his life was not a trade he was about to question—granted that he could think his way out of this newest mess. Severus had always taught him to use his mind in every situation, no matter how trivial or complicated—constantly reminding him that his mind was his best weapon, even before his magic and money.

Something snapped and cracked off to his right and Draco forced himself not to react straightaway. To whirl about would give away that he was aware of how close his pursuers were. He also had no desire to see their eerie, masked faces. They were killers, the lot of them, and he would not face them nor death today—he had no such desires.

Checking his magic, Draco stifled another painful grimace. His reserves were low and erratic, his inheritance had come in scarcely a week ago and it had left him drained and confused. His mother had helped as she usually did, but something else had her distracted and so he'd been forced to spend some time with his father, a pastime that had once made him jump for joy, until he'd discovered just how heartless his own father could be.

He hadn't seen concrete proof for sure, until today. He had almost thought that he was wrong, but then his father—no, _Lucius_—had done it. He'd sold him off as if he were not his heir, but nothing more than another worthless asset that no longer held his interest.

Draco had realized in short order exactly how wrong everything was, when his father had tried to salvage the glaring moral error pointed out to him by a certain Rowle. A thread of conversation picked up by Voldemort that ended in Draco staring as the spell was cast and unable to turn to see what his ears confirmed. He'd heard the flare of power, the wet sound of flesh tearing and blood squelching and that had been enough.

He'd ran with everything that he could. He heard the yells and shouts after him, but his mind had switched gears.

Survival.

Something snapped again, nearby and Draco willed himself to continued forward, taking up refuge behind a tree trunk large enough to shield him. It would hold up for maybe a spell or two, if fired directly at him. He pointed his wand to his arm, about to cast another healing spell and stopped himself.

A little pain was nothing new. He should conserve his energy and his magic for when he would need it—most likely in the next few seconds.

His mind whirled and stalled and for a moment, he felt hot tears burn at the corners of his eyes that perhaps all of his struggles had been for naught. His left hand shook, the tremors coming over him as he realized that he only knew one possible spell that would kill him.

Silver grey eyes blinked away the possible tears and Draco squared his shoulders, mentally slapping himself into a ready position. If it did come down to suicide, he knew it was a better option than allowing Voldemort's minions to take him back. If they didn't torture and abuse him first, they would and then they'd kill him. And he really didn't want to die.

The only two people who would possibly miss him would be his mother, the esteemed and highly dignified Lady Malfoy and his godfather, one dark, brooding and terribly misunderstood Severus Snape. Draco sighed.

One could not cast an Avada Kedavra at oneself, but he did hope that perhaps it wouldn't come to that. He wasn't looking forward to his other options.

A blur flickered to his right and Draco turned and fired off a spell with startlingly accurate precision. He twisted and threw another spell over his shoulder, before the first Death Eater's body had hit the ground. He dropped to a defensive crouch, his limp arm cradled close to his chest, nestled in the shreds of what remained of his gifted birthday robes from his mother.

He drew in a shaky breath, feeling an ache deep inside of his chest. A familiar hollow feeling he'd discovered the night he'd turned sixteen. How strange and odd it was. His mother had told him a long time ago—since he was about six years of age—of what would come and when it would happen. She'd told him that it might not happen at all, since Lucius wasn't one of _them._ But she'd admitted that there really wasn't any way that she could tell.

Draco didn't know how to tell her how relieved he'd felt when the changes had begun on his birthday. He'd wanted it to happen. Being a dragel sounded like fun. It meant that he would be loved and cared for, even if he wasn't a Submissive. His mother told him that there would be clues to tell him what rank he was and that he'd have to keep an eye out for them.

He'd been thrilled. It had sounded so wonderful that he hadn't expected the giant ache and loneliness that had come with it. It had caught him by surprise in the start of his summer holiday and there was not much he could do about it. He hadn't wanted to stay _normal._ The mask of a Malfoy hadn't fit him at all and he'd seen confirmation of that first hand when his father had first laid eyes on him the following morning.

His mother had immediately disappeared after fawning over him for a handful of minutes. She'd insisted that he eat plenty of fruit and allowed him a single glass of wine in celebration. It was the last time he would see her in the capacity as his mother, she'd sent him a message via her patronus a few hours earlier in the day—something in her voice had been off and she sounded scared, even though it appeared that she was trying not to let it show.

It had made his heart _hurt._

And he hadn't known what to do about it.

She had once told him that if he ever needed help in any way, shape or form at all, that he was to go directly to Severus. She'd told him there was a reason she'd agreed with Lucius' decision to make the honestly dangerous man his godfather. She'd warned him to be careful as he grew, to be aware that there would be many things he may never know of the man.

Things that one day might make sense.

Draco turned the mental puzzle over in his mind, preparing himself for another attack. He was not holding up as well as he had hoped. Pain continued to radiate through him and for one moment, he felt his resolve tremble, before he drew himself up again.

He needed to do this—he had to. He did not want to die.

Not today.

* * *

**A/N: Ha and there we go. Draco is a week-old "dragel" in terms of having received his inheritance and this is the beginning of how he ended up with Severus as his Alpha and Terius as his Pareya. If these terms (and this fic!) do not make sense to you, I suggest reading "There Be Dragons, Harry" and then returning to this. Thank you for reading! Comment if you like. :)**


	2. The Newcomer

**See chapter one for disclaimers and warnings.**

* * *

_RECAP: Running blindly from an initiation meeting gone bad, Draco stumbles through the forest surrounding Riddle Manor, gravely injured. Severus swoops out of the manor trying to suppress his dragel instincts while tracking down his missing godson. He spots Draco just as he learns that the blond is surrounded by attackers._

* * *

Severus took form again by brushing up against a tall tree and latching on with claws and magic. His round dark eyes flickered out to dark, cat-eyed pupils. He tracked the wizards tracking Draco with expert accuracy and ill-temper.

The moment his natural instincts homed in on Draco and then the vibes filtering out from the blond, the Potions Master knew that he would have to be careful—so very careful. So he began.

With a graceful leap from the slender tree branches downward to the ground, Severus cast the killing curse without a second thought. He strode forward in a blur, snapping the neck of the next Death Eater and viciously stabbing the third, before spelling the life out of him.

Feral beauty and grace surrounded the man in black as he struck again and again, rendering over a dozen lower-ranked Death Eaters very dead and 'death-eaten'. There was no remorse or regret. Especially when he heard Draco's pained shout and he shot forward, a few seconds too late to prevent further injury, but early enough to deal a deathly blow.

"…Sev'rus?" Draco licked bloodied lips and glassy grey eyes focused on him with that blond head lolling to the side.

"Draco!" Severus dropped to a crouch beside him, already forcing his dragel instincts backward and reaching for the clutch of highly expensive and effective potions he always kept on his person. He cradled the slender upper body in one bony arm and bit off the waxed cork from the potion vial, wedging the glass lip at the edge of Draco's mouth. "Drink it. Swallow." He coaxed, keeping his thumb in just the right place to keep the blond's mouth open as he emptied the potion's contents down Draco's mouth.

Long, elegant fingers gently stroked and massaged the pale column of throat, urging Draco to swallow the liquid that would heal him. Severus bristled, turning at the sound of more feet approaching. He really did not have the time to spare for dueling. Draco needed more than an emergency potion and the cold forest floor.

"Well, well, look here. It's little ol' Snapey!" a whiny Death Eater cackled. "Saving this one? Want 'im for your own?"

Severus saw red or rather, more aptly put, black.

* * *

"…you want me to take it _where_?" Terius nearly shouted. As it was, his hands clenched at his sides, a sure sign that his day had gone from bad to worse and his temper was bristling close to the surface. "Can't you take it to Shawna and have her-"

The conversation was cut short and a rather disgruntled Councilman Terius found himself standing outside of the law firm, a briefcase of neatly printed parchment in hand. He looked from the weather-beaten case to his immaculate shoes and resisted the urge to sigh.

Today was simply one of those terribly boring and horribly out of sync days. He'd been having them more regularly than usual. It was something of a mental itch that served to irritate him further as he turned on his heel and strode down the Nevarean sidewalk.

He would have to find a public transportation hub, as it seemed even his own assistant was conspiring against him. He did not have many issues, save for, well, he never did relish stepping into the wizarding world, no matter what the issue was. It was always too strict, too bleak and too bloody frustrating!

Terius slipped into the growing queue, gathering up his energies for the portal. He would have to pick someplace unobtrusive and sufficiently out of the way of wizarding civilization. From there, he could 'port to his usual place and begin preparing for the wizengamot case arguing against changing the rules for magical creatures and their social interactions among the wizarding world at large.

The line inched forward and Terius checked his watch. He would be delayed by at least an hour to be sure the new injunction was accepted, properly filed and would be available should his firm require it. There were downsides to being a lawyer and a councilman, downsides he had studiously ignored until he had successfully achieved both titles. Now it seemed that they sought to antagonize him in alternate turns. With a sigh, Terius shuffled forward, straightening out his shirt cuffs and toying with the shiny cuff links he'd chosen for luck this morning.

Luck that seemed to be swiftly running out.

The dragel before him stepped into the small, rectangular room and the white light flashed as his portal was activated.

Terius drew up his energy around him and tugged on a pale strand of his elemental gift—air. It swirled faintly around him and when it was his turn, he stepped into the glowing white room. It was more of a cubicle than anything, yet, still big enough for him to tuck the briefcase under one arm and cast out the other, level with his shoulder. "Temptrificus Orus!"

A tremendous burst of air whipped through the white room and in a burst of whitness, Terius' form distorted, bursting into a million fathomless particles before disappearing altogether.

* * *

Terius' body reformed via 'portal of Orus several minutes later and he stood, somewhat unsteadily on his own two feet, cursing the portal, the errand and the star he was born under. He could have added a few other things, but decided it took too much effort.

It really was one of those days.

He didn't move for another handful of minutes, unsure as to whether his feet would work properly in terms of carrying him forward. Thankfully, they did. He stomped his feet a few times to work some feeling back into them.

'porting when he was upset always left him somewhat unsettled and very much off-kilter. It was one reason he'd opted to 'port into a place with zero populace and recognizable landmarks. Terius checked the briefcase a moment later, somewhat belatedly. Everything was intact and he was glad for that small mercy.

Starting forward, he began to count to fifty paces, the acceptable distance between an arriving 'portation stamp carved into the ground—the exact spot where he'd landed—and then the site of a new one. There were a hundred and one nuances to 'porting directly from the signature of where one had landed in the first place, but he was not about to deal with that just yet.

It was simply easier to count his steps and 'port again from the new place.

A grimace registered on his face as Terius caught sight of the smattering of scales decorating the sides and back of his hands. He huffed a sigh, feeling upwards along his face and neck. He was more agitated than he'd thought, if his dragel attributes were fighting to be visible in his human-wizard form. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing in and out and in and out and in and out and—something crashed off to the left.

Sea-blue-grey eyes popped open in surprise and his head whipped to the side. _Spell damage._ His brain translated and explained, when Terius found himself staring at singed leaves and a large gash in the earthen ground.

_Oh by Arielle's virgin-!_ The words spluttered out in his mind as reflex had Terius diving to the side as another spell sheared off just a hair's breadth from where he'd been standing. He lay on the ground, twitching for a moment, vaguely annoyed and somewhat gratified to know that yes, indeed, his day was proceeding to turn out quite horribly.

It took him a half-second to pull one of his Halfling dragel forms to the front and he drew on the instinct to know how to react. Instinctively he settled into a crouch and cast a charm over the briefcase, allowing him to stash it away in one of his personal 'spaces' for later retrieval. He then loosened the fastenings on the front of his embroidered macfarlane. He would likely need to move freely in the following minutes.

Sure enough, more spell fire came his way. Terius took refuge behind a tree and tuned in an ear with the help of his gift, to see if he could determine who was fighting whom and for what purpose. It didn't particularly help, but he could make out two distinct magical signatures similar to his own.

One with powerful magic and the other with a fading lifeforce. Both were younger than his own century and a half.

Terius scowled. He really did not have the time to waste to spend saving _children._ With a huff, he moved out from behind the tree and brushed off flecks of dirt and forest debris from the shoulder cape. He would simply have to retrace his steps and start counting in the _opposite_ direction.

He was almost to the original 'portal stamp when another stray spell shot through the air and cut the smallest of slits in the edge of the shoulder cape of his macfarlane. The distinguished dragel pinched the bridge of his nose willing himself to let it slide this once. Surely, whoever had cast the spell did not know of him or about him and to unleash his simmering rage upon them would surely be a display to be frowned upon.

Well, at least until he heard the cry.

Weak, soft and so very low, if his element were not air, Terius could have sworn that he had imagined it. Except for the air element never lied. It was the very life-giving essence of breath and he had heard _that_. A heartcry, the softest, pleading, broken call of a dragel Submissive that he had ever heard.

And it burned.

Unmated as he was, that was a call he could not refuse in the least. Terius did not even bother to try withholding his temper.

In a spectacular whirl of official robes, elegant cords of office and pure _rage, _the esteemed councilman lashed out with a vicious spell of razor-sharp wind.

"_Razecor Insomnius!_" The incantation left his lips with a low snarl as Terius blurred forward, his dragel-self only seeking retribution for an unintended slight.

He burst into a fight between several wizards in long, black cloaks, flinging various dark curses at each other in quick succession. The scent of blood hung thick and heavy in the air and Terius attributed it to the fading signature he'd sensed, a young man laid out on the ground, pale, shivering and glassy-eyed. His dragel was newborn and fresh—barely a week, perhaps—and it was suffering, using the last of its energy to call for help and comfort.

Terius' earlier irritation surfaced as he snapped his attention to the wizard's duel continuing in before him. A few of the dark, oddly-masked wizards had thrown a few spells in his direction immediately upon his arrival, but he'd waved them aside with one hand. Now, he could see that one of the wizards in black seemed to be defending the fallen youngling and that was good enough for the moment.

He drew in a single sharp breath and put two fingers to his lips, then blew it out, with the incantation muttered beneath his breath. The reaction was instantaneous. With a sudden scrabbling at their faces and throats, the black-cloaked figures dropped to the ground.

A scowl still on his face, Terius turned to see a long, dark wand pointed ominously at him. He blinked, once and then his eyes narrowed. "Oh do put that away before you hurt someone." He snapped, testily. "I could have left you to deal with it on your own as I _do_ have other places to be and things to be _doing_." He straightened his cuffs and cast another glance towards the fallen youngling.

He could feel the faintest of tugs towards the young man and it both thrilled and frightened him. He had begun to wonder if perhaps he would never take an interest in a circle at all, when his first century had come upon him. But now, he could feel the first stirrings of interest and instinct towards the injured Submissive.

A wordless snarl came from the lips of the other still standing wizard and Terius found himself moving backwards when the wand was jabbed forcefully into his neck. For a moment, he contemplated breaking it and then decided that he had no particular urge to be so cruel at such an early hour in the day.

"If I had wanted either of you dead," he snapped. "Believe me, you would not be standing. If that is yours, then kindly go tend to it!"

The wand jabbed harder.

Terius felt the change beginning, scales creeping up and over his body, the pale skin melting away to show red and grey scales that covered his body. He bared his teeth, fangs curling over the edges of his lips. He took a careful breath, searching out the scent and seeking the rank of this wizard.

Ah, the other dragel signature he'd noticed. Eyebrows danced upwards when another, sharper scent caught his attention.

"Alpha?" The title dropped from his lips in puzzlement.

To Terius' surprise, the wand retreated. Dark eyes surveyed him from behind the ridiculous mask and then a soft, silken voice came from the wizard. "What are you?"

Terius stared for a moment. That was a lovely voice that did not suit the vision before him. He held out his hands, peaceably. "Dragel, as yourself." He said, simply. "Pareya, if that is what you ask." He frowned. "You are—muted. I do not understand." His brow furrowed and he took a half-step to the side when the injured youngling whimpered and cried again.

"Stay!" The dark wizard growled, meaningfully. "I do not have the time for this!" The words were spat out in a near hiss and he stalked over to the prone figure.

Terius tugged lightly on his gift to hear their words, miffed when a privacy bubble was charmed over them. He scowled and turned away, unsure as to why he was actually staying and not particularly inclined to leave at present.

* * *

**A/N: Yay for chapter 2! I'm posting 'cause I can spare the time. Thank you for reading and the warm response to this little side ficlet. The Snape Circle is adorable, so do enjoy! Comment if you like. :)**


	3. New Danger

**See chapter one for disclaimers and warnings.**

* * *

_RECAP: Running blindly from an initiation meeting gone bad, Draco stumbles through the forest surrounding Riddle Manor, gravely injured. Severus swoops out of the manor trying to suppress his dragel instincts while tracking down his missing godson. He spots Draco just as he learns that the blond is surrounded by attackers and fights off the DE's only to be joined by the mysterious Pareya, Terius, who steps in and helps to turn the tide._

* * *

Of all the things in the world that one Severus Snape had ever expected to encounter in his lifetime, it was most certainly not the fact that his godson was a dragel Submissive, nor that said godson would release a heartcry in his vicinity and that it would also draw in an honest-to-goodnes pureblooded dragel—and a protective Pareya on top of it.

The Potions Master was torn between wanting to shake some sense into said empty-headed godson and the rest was torn between the fact that of everything and everyone, Draco had called out while he was nearby.

Surely the young man could not have known that Severus was a dragel Alpha—a very well hidden one, mind you, as he had constantly slaved in his lab over the years to produce potions and results that would keep his creature nature well-hidden and carefully masked.

Apparently he hadn't managed it well enough, because the newcomer—the Pareya—had sniffed him out at once. Severus scowled. That was not how he'd ever envisioned his first encounter with a natural-born dragel to proceed, but then again, his life had always been a wretched mess at fate's hands. He snuck a glance over one shoulder as he cradled Draco close to him, uncorking another vial of healing potion to pour down the lad's throat.

The newcomer was someone of importance and wealth, if his rich, lavish clothing was anything to reason by. He held himself with a practiced air and Severus was still deciphering what spell the man had cast to defeat their attackers so single-handedly. It something to do with sleep and air, as far as he could make out with his muted instincts, Severus knew that man shared the same elemental gift as he did—air.

_What a lucky coincidence._ He thought, darkly. "Draco…Draco! Do not fall asleep on me, brat." He growled, worry tearing at the corners of his consciousness. He could not lose this boy, not just because Narcissa would eat him alive, should she actually still be living, but because the pale, golden-haired child had been the only sliver of light in his dark life.

Surely his darkness was not so tainted that it had to swallow up Draco as well. Severus fussed over the weak wizard for a few more minutes, checking as the pulse seemed to strengthen very, very faintly and watching as a pale sheen of sweat came over those pale features. He had once grimly prepared himself for the probability of something like this coming to pass, but he had hoped against everything that it never would have.

A movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention and Severus involuntarily clutched Draco to his chest as the Pareya drew closer, restlessness evident in his movements, but a hint of worry etched on his face. The Pareya would be fighting his own instincts as well, both to stay back—seeing as Severus was identified as an Alpha—and then to draw near, seeing as he'd most likely heard Draco's heartcry as well.

Severus tried and failed to place the dragel's age, before scowling and belatedly realizing that with that wretched mask on, the idiot could not see his face. He rather wished it was off so that his scowl would keep the stranger at bay. He really did not want to read anything into the reality that was before them. He'd worked very hard for quite some time to keep his creature nature hidden and perfectly under control, and yet, this stranger had seen through it in a heartbeat.

The Potions Master mentally rolled his eyes and turned back to Draco when the young man moved with a soft whimper. Draco was not supposed to be moving, at least if he had a shred of sense in his near-empty head. Severus frowned, casting another spell to check the necessary vitals. He'd need to move Draco as soon as it was physically possible. He needed dark, quiet and time to whip up the potions to restore his godson to the shining specimen that the Malfoys claimed as their own.

"Stay back!" He warned the newcomer.

The Pareya snorted. "I mean him and you no _harm._" The word was stressed. "Believe me, if I had wanted to…" The words trailed off and the blue-grey eyes darted back to the fallen Death Eaters. "How is he? Not worsening, I hope"

Severus opened his mouth to speak when Draco feebly licked his split lip and repeated the sound that shook him to the core.

A soft, quiet, heartcry.

His heart clenched tightly in his chest and Severus was profoundly grateful for the potions he'd stuffed himself with the past week. It was the thinnest of threads connecting him to his sanity and his creature side. It helped him to hold his control and not succumb to the instinctive urge to silence the heart-wrenching cry and stake his claim on the unmarked Submissive.

He could not.

He would not.

He absolutely should _not._

Draco was his godson, almost like a son he'd never had, like an apprentice of sorts. Yes, an apprentice. Definitely not a Submissive and definitely not Submissive material as far as Severus was concerned. He'd taught Draco everything that he could, of potions and magic—whatever he was able to, when Lucius and Narcissa had allowed them to spend time together.

At first, he'd never known what to do with a child so pure and innocent, worried that his own darkness would find a way into that light and ruin it, taint it and destroy it, as his touch so often seemed to do. But somehow, Draco had made it.

Until now.

Severus felt himself tremble, aware that the potion aided him in fighting back his own instincts that swam dangerously close to the surface. He could not stake a claim on Draco, not on someone that absolutely would not be able to withstand his horrible temper, atrocious habits and ridiculously dangerous life—even if he'd fleetingly considered Draco—and he _never_ had—it could not happen. They were the very worst of matches. His tortured thoughts were interrupted by an shocked statement.

"You cannot be serious." The Pareya's voice came from his life and it sounded unbelievably incredulous. "He isn't yours? My word…do you mean to tell me that he _isn't_ yours?"

There were a few muttered curses in the tongue of the Dragel, a language that Severus hadn't heard in some time. He felt his eyes ache, burn and change as his halfing form warred within and his dragel-cat-eyes remained. Draco was his—in every sense of the word, save for the intended dragel meaning of being his Submissive mate. He would never do that. He couldn't. Not to Draco, anyway. Surely the boy would find it to be repulsive and demeaning to be tied to a wretch of a wizard as he was himself. If Draco knew that he could search and find far more suitable dragel mates than a temperamental Potions Master torn between two masters of a pointless war, surely he'd take that chance. Draco certainly deserved better.

A chill swept through the air and Severus felt the hairs along the back of his neck begin to stand on end, prickling with unease. Something was wrong enough for him to notice it over and in spite of everything else. He shifted and then yanked the Death Eater mask off, irritated at the way it obstructed his usually sharp vision. He needed to be every inch of himself that he once had been in order to guarantee Draco's safety. They would both emerge from this experience as unscathed as he could possibly manage—absolutely.

"_Arielle's heart._" The Pareya muttered beneath his breath, the blue-grey eyes darting to Severus and then back. "I would ask who you are to have wagered that, but quite frankly, I am not entirely sure that I wish to know." The blue-grey eyes flickered back, a faint gleam of appreciation in them as he took in the determination and new resolve pouring off of the dark wizard.

Severus followed the line of sight to see something that made his blood run cold and empty. Black, wispy, feathery shadows, and fiercely glowing red eyes that screamed of one thing he was entirely unprepared to handle right then. He swallowed hard and rose to his feet, careful to put the tree at his back as he took in the approaching evil.

Vampires.

_Bloody wretched creatures of-! _

The thought was abruptly cut off as Severus strengthened his Occulumency shields and subtly checked Draco's own as well. So Voldemort had brokered a deal with them after all. He hadn't been able to verify it for Dumbledore, but he'd had his suspicions and while the light side hadn't wanted to think anything of vampires and dark creatures being useful beings with intelligent minds, Severus knew better. He'd _known._ If there was any truth to a powerful and wise creature of the dark, it was surely the vampires and they were so shunned and scorned by the wizarding world, that he knew they would take whatever Voldemort offered them, so as long as it was worthwhile.

And if Voldemort allowed them to take their fill of violence, blood and torture—then they would gladly storm whatever castles and walls behind him. There were certainly too many circling around them and now that he was aware, he could sense them. His inner creature screamed inside, clawing to be released. It did not like the way the odds were stacked.

The Potions Master braced himself, searching for his wizarding magic beneath the roiling emotions and energy churning about inside of him. He'd depended too much on his dragel side just now, out of sheer desperation for Draco and it had weakened his walls holding his creature at bay. He could not afford a lapse like that now. It would be far too costly and he would be entirely unable to keep control of the situation should that come about.

"Friends of yours?" The Pareya rolled his neck to the side and then set his shoulders back, an unconcerned air settling around him. "I must protest if they are—and as you have yet to offer me a suitable answer for the Submissive in your arms, I feel obligated to remain. Please do not think anything of it." The smile was bland and entirely too judgmental to be anything other than the veiled accusation that it was.

Severus swallowed back the curse on the tip of his tongue. He could read between the lines there. The man was calmly stating that he'd felt a pull from Draco's heartcry as well and intended to pursue it unless there were some specific reason declaring his intentions to be unnecessary otherwise. The dark wizard bristled for a moment, indignant, before he realized that he had no grounds to do so. Draco was more than old enough to make such a decision on his own, in the matter of mates and just a moment ago, he'd bemoaned the fact that there were no dragels about for said godson.

The mental gymnastics brought a spectacular scowl to his face and Severus shifted the armful of Draco very carefully.

"Sev'rus…?" The voice was weak and whispered. Draco's head lolled to the side. "…can…stand." He managed to mumble.

Severus hesitated. That would be good, it would free up one hand at least, for the moment and perhaps it would be best, but he could feel the slender thrum of life and magic sparking madly inside of Draco and it pained him to a degree he hadn't thought possible at all. He did not want any sort of harm to come to this young man. But he would not insult him either by asking whether he could or not. Instead, he merely shifted, one arm holding tight around Draco's shoulders and upper body, allowing his legs to swing downwards to the ground.

Draco's arms wound about his waist and he nestled his face into Severus' dark robes, with the softest of pained gasps as he manipulated the sore arm—properly set with Severus' help—into a position where he could safely grasp it from behind and ensure they would not be separated from their positions.

* * *

**A/N: Yay for chapter 3! I meant to post this yesterday and forgot. Sorry. But here we go, some Severus bits and a thought of what was going on in his head and his reaction to learning that Voldy has some allies that Dumbles doesn't know about. Woo. Hmm. and it looks like Terius is interested in Draco, so yay! Comment if you like. :)**


	4. Complicated Conversations

**See chapter one for disclaimers and warnings.**

* * *

_RECAP: Terius's arrival serves to confuse and irritate Severus as he does his best to quickly heal and help Draco as best as he can. They are interrupted when Vampires with pledged allegiance to Voldemort begin to surround them. _

* * *

Severus did not have a chance to complain or negotiate.

Terius did both of them for him. The Pareya smoothly stepped in front and manipulated the conversation as if that's the way he'd meant for it to go all along.

"Begging your pardon, but you are not needed at the moment, if you would kindly move along." He informed the vampires, briskly, as if he were doing nothing more than speaking about the weather and as if there was absolutely nothing to be concerned about.

The vampires had begun to fan out in a hunting circle, a movement used to intimidate and herd their prey and now, it was brought to something of a screeching halt, when Terius spoke and directed his words at the tallest red-eyed dark creature at the head of the march.

"…and _why_ pray tell, should we?" The words were breathed as a hiss.

Terius yawned as if in answer, but as he did so, stretched his jaw called his fangs to the front. They surged upwards from his gums at once, sharp, pointed and gleaming in the cool air. He closed his mouth with an audible click and folded his hands before him in something of a salutation. The moment he did so, his hands bent and curled forward, taking on the characteristic claws expected of an adult dragel.

The smile the Pareya offered was wide, bland and fanged. A smattering of pale grey-blue scales flickered along the sides of his face, but they did not settle toward one form or another. The stormy blue-grey eyes grew steely with resolve. "Need I explain myself, vampire?" He inquired, frostily. "Or have your enhanced senses failed you?"

The leading vampire bristled almost at once. "I can see more than you would like, perhaps." He growled. "What is one of your kind doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you and it would still be none of your business no matter what answer you gave me." Terius returned, smoothly. "Try again."

"Those two you are protecting, we have rights to them."

"You have rights to nothing. They have done nothing wrong."

"They have betrayed those who have been merciful to them."

"Merciful?" Severus' words came out as a barely controlled snarl. His magic surged and flared wildly about him, for a moment, as his iron control faltered, then reasserted itself. He could do this. Surely he could do this. It would only be a matter of persuasion and negotiation. He was familiar with both. He'd employed that and more in the years he'd been spy to two masters. What was one more instance? "I am owed nothing and I ask nothing." He forced the words through clenched teeth, understanding the ancient law he was now referring to.

The Vampires worked by their own code of honors and ethics, never mind how dark and twisted they might be. Voldemort had promised them something, but Severus was sure that above that contract, the dark creatures would in turn, revert back to their natural customs, given the opportunity.

As it was, the lead vampire looked up sharply, blood-red eyes piercing into onyx depths. "You claim such old traditions, wizard?" It hissed. "You know not that which you speak."

"Perhaps he does not, perhaps he does." Terius's gaze flickered back to the black-clad wizard and then to the restless line of vampires. "Will you hear it?"

The vampire head was quiet for a moment. Then a wicked smirk painted itself across his face, the smug features carrying a vaguely sadistic inclination. "But of course, if you will answer me this."

Terius frowned. Instinct told him that the question would be vital.

Severus clutched Draco tighter to him and kept his wand half-raised at his side, ready to cast at a second's notice. Something in the back of his head warned him that this question was important. He couldn't think of a reason why, but knew that they had to answer, especially if the possibility of a peaceful retreat was still an option. He glowered at the band of red-eyed bastards. "And what question would that be?" His voice dripped venom and disdain, punctuated with one of his standard glares.

"Simple, very simple, oh wizard." The vampire head bobbed in answer, still smirking. "I understand that this one," he nodded towards Terius. "Is Dragel, but that does not answer for you two." He now nodded towards Draco, eyes trained on Severus. "In fact, I am almost certain that I scent an unclaimed Submissive." The red eyes gleamed. "Is this true? How very fortunate."

For one agonizing half-second, Severus felt his heart nearly freeze. _No…_ The implications behind those words were too horrible to comprehend. He could not answer that. They would know if he lied, there were too many of them, even if he could have bluffed his way around a handful, there were twenty and more still gathering.

This was very bad.

He could not subject Draco to this. The insinuation of an unclaimed Submissive meant that as an unclaimed Creature of a non-dominant nature, any dominant creature could attempt to claim or court it. At least by law of all Magical Creatures.

Dragels were known for accepting other creature-kinds into their Bonded circles, but this was ridiculous. Vampires for Draco's first? Even if he had no prejudice against them, he most certainly did now. How dare they presume such things about the injured blond clutching at his robes to keep upright.

Severus took a deep breath and straightened. He mentally prayed that Draco would forgive him for this. Perhaps it was necessary, perhaps it was just selfish. But he would not let his godson die here. Not here, not now and not at the hands of arrogant bloodsucking leeches!

"He is claimed." Severus tightened his grip on Draco's trembling shoulder. He knew his godson was liking suffering from bloodloss, fatigue and his Submissive instincts likely throwing him off.

"By you? Your hesitation leads me to wonder." The vampire purred. "Can you show proof of your claim?"

Severus bristled. "Proof? What kind of depraved monster are you?" The insult tumbled out as he felt his Alpha-dragel nature surging to the forefront, thrilled at the thought of finally claiming a dragel Submissive for its own.

A series of hisses, growls and snarls sounded out from the woods and Severus realized, belatedly, that they were completely surrounded. The situation seemed to be deteriorating by the second. He swallowed.

"It is a perfectly harmless question. No matter where you've placed the mark, I'm sure you have one of your own in plain sight, if you do not wish to show off your Submissive." The vampire leered. "Unless of course, there is no…truth to your tale."

And Severus' heart fell. There was no way he could fake a dragel's claiming tattoo. Even claiming marks were hard to conjure in some rare situations, but a full, true claiming tattoo? That was absolutely out of the question.

They were most certainly doomed.

"Well?" The vampire leader seemed to be laughing with his grim eyes. "Surely it is not that difficult to produce some evidence that the Submissive is yours? If he is, then we shall leave our quarrel for another day."

Before Severus could answer or even begin to formulate an answer, Terius spoke up.

His voice was low and furious, his blue-grey eyes swirling with visible emotion. "I do not appreciate being ignored, master vampire." The respectful title was all but spat. "And I do not appreciate your interrupting my courting!" The sheer vehemence in his voice immediately arrested the attention of everyone present.

Severus blinked. Years of practice and training as a spy helped him to keep his reaction muted and inward. He forced himself to keep regular breaths and not a single shift in his facial muscles. He did not dare breathe. This was an unexpected development of a very useful kind.

"Your…courting?" The vampire eyed him with something akin to aversion. "You…lay claim to those two?"

Terius merely lifted his chin, a glower settling on his features. "I do." He said, stiffly. "And I was barely beginning to explain myself before you and your _kind_ appeared to disrupt our moment of privacy."

"Privacy?" The vampire head snorted. "You call this," he gestured to the woods. "A moment of privacy? May the darkness swallow us whole for spreading such lies." The red eyes burned bright. He took a deep, pointed breath. "I scent nothing of-"

The sound of ripping, tearing, fabric filled the air as Terius's magnificent wings burst free from their confines. Shredded bits of shirt and robe flew through the air as the broad wingspan unfurled to a very respectable height and breadth.

A sudden rush of a faint, musky odor dispersed into the air as Terius's lip curled, fangs peeking over the edge, in a half-snarl. "You were saying?" his voice was guttural. "Please, do carry on."

Severus half-staggered back a step, hindered by Draco's grasp on his waist. It nearly threw him off balance, but he tried not to breathe, even as he felt the last strands of his Alpha nature clawing inside of him.

It was likely too late already.

A strong, proud and fairly good-looking Pareya had all but just physically propositioned him. His inner Alpha was already preening, whispering useless drivel of what magnificent wings the strange dragel had and what powerful magic was present in addition to that lovely, inviting scent.

Severus focused with all his will to cast a silent, small wind charm in hopes of clearing the air. It was a basic charm that parents sometimes used to help their children fly kites, to blow out a dusty basement in the absence of house elves and to occasionally stir stagnant air.

He was one moment too late, as Draco suddenly stiffened beside him and opened his mouth in a very obvious, very audible, heartcry.

Severus swore.

* * *

**A/N: I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. I honestly had more to post, but somehow, my PC ate the entire file and the chapters 4,5,6 that I had typed out. I'm now rewriting from scratch and have finally managed to put this together as a 4th chapter. *sigh* I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for the lovely responses from the last time. I'm glad folks are enjoying the story. :) **


	5. Trickery

**See chapter one for disclaimers and warnings.**

* * *

_RECAP: Terius's arrival serves to confuse and irritate Severus as he does his best to quickly heal and help Draco as best as he can. They are interrupted when Vampires with pledged allegiance to Voldemort begin to surround them. Things change when Draco's heartcry prompts Terius' reaction. _

* * *

_PREVIOUSLY : _

"Privacy?"_ The vampire head snorted. "You call this," he gestured to the woods. "A moment of privacy? May the darkness swallow us whole for spreading such lies." The red eyes burned bright. He took a deep, pointed breath. "I scent nothing of-"_

_The sound of ripping, tearing, fabric filled the air as Terius's magnificent wings burst free from their confines. Shredded bits of shirt and robe flew through the air as the broad wingspan unfurled to a very respectable height and breadth._

_A sudden rush of a faint, musky odor dispersed into the air as Terius's lip curled, fangs peeking over the edge, in a half-snarl. "You were saying?" his voice was guttural. "Please, do carry on."_

_Severus half-staggered back a step, hindered by Draco's grasp on his waist. It nearly threw him off balance, but he tried not to breathe, even as he felt the last strands of his Alpha nature clawing inside of him._

_It was likely too late already._

_A strong, proud and fairly good-looking Pareya had all but just physically propositioned him. His inner Alpha was already preening, whispering useless drivel of what magnificent wings the strange dragel had and what powerful magic was present in addition to that lovely, inviting scent._

_Severus focused with all his will to cast a silent, small wind charm in hopes of clearing the air. It was a basic charm that parents sometimes used to help their children fly kites, to blow out a dusty basement in the absence of house elves and to occasionally stir stagnant air._

_He was one moment too late, as Draco suddenly stiffened beside him and opened his mouth in a very obvious, very audible, heartcry._

_Severus swore._

* * *

Terius merely chirred in answer. A soft, clicking rumble of a sound, as he rolled his shoulders back and his wings shifted, curving forward with the action. It was a deliberate movement on his part as he reached into the magic hovering inside of him.

There were only a handful of ways that this encounter could end without causing significant headache and heartache to himself and the two dragels behind him. He was somewhat resolved into it not causing any sort of ache at all, but realized the futility in trying to make it so. He would simply have to rely on instinct and cunning gained from his rank of Pareya and his noble title of Councilman.

He could play one of the cards, closely kept to his chest, or he could spin another tale that might buy him enough time to think of a better way to trick the vampires.

Or, he could simply entice the Alpha to break his fragile trance and claim both him and the weakened submissive.

An enraged Alpha had nothing on mere vampires, at least, not vampires with barely a few decades between them, much less a century. The old vampires, the Elders, as they were known, were wise, vain and powerful creatures, with centuries of existence behind them and an appetite for lust, power and blood that made the turned vampires before him, look like a necromancer's apprentice experiment gone wrong somewhere.

Terius sifted through his thoughts with quickness and darkness, drawing heavier on his Pareyic nature and deeper on his experience in bargaining with vampires. He would prefer to refrain from sullying himself with the stench of such unworthy, low-ranking bloodsuckers, but he supposed he could stomach it, this once, for the sake of the heartcry that he'd heard behind him.

He would have to answer that.

There was no way he could not.

Something had stirred inside of him, the moment he'd heard it and he had a feeling that perhaps they were destined for each other, at least, for the present moment. He would have to stake his claim, preferably after the Alpha had done so.

Terius twitched, faintly. Unable to keep that from showing through, he shuffled backwards a step, realizing that he would have to place a claim on both the agitated Alpha and wounded Submissive—beneath the bloodsuckers hungry eyes.

He did not appreciate that at all. A claiming between dragels was meant to be private, personal and intimate in ways that had very little to do with a physical coupling and very much to do with souls, hearts and love over lust.

The Pareya swallowed, feeling his magic finally answering him, as if it had only just figured out how to work within the confines of this new earthen realm. He'd never expected his first encounter with such things to happen in a forest out in the midst of nowhere, because of a transportation portal gone wrong.

"If you mean to claim them, then why do you hesitate?" The vampire leader hissed, blood-red eyes darkening even more, a hint that bloodlust was beginning to tear at rational thought. They could respect this, somewhat, if it was true, otherwise—well, there was nothing wrong with taking and claiming some things of their own.

Terius fluttered his wings, faintly and took another shuffling step backwards. He could practically feel the Alpha's inner turmoil as an unseen battle raged inside. "Hold him," he murmured, softly, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. "And do not let him go, lest this transportation fail." He would have to show proof of their claims-his claims at least-and then he would have to 'port them out of here in a hurry.

The Alpha's angry musings flickered to neutral and then to a hint of confusion when Terius finally turned to meet those dark eyes set in such a proud face. "This will be difficult," He continued, quietly. "I will trust you to take him to safety."

The dark man's brow furrowed into two deep rows just as Terius smiled in apology. "I feel that I should apologize in advance," he said, calmly. "For it pains me to think that you would see naught but trickery in this…and you would be right."

* * *

Severus understood a split-second before the mysterious new dragel held up lengthened claws and drew them downward in a deliberate slash across his neck. There were a thousand and one things he wished he could answer to that, but he was entirely speechless when the rich, thick scent of dragel blood touched his nose. The forest fell silent.

A muted groan slipped through his lips and seemed to rattle in his bones as he felt the last tendrils of control snap, releasing his dragel-Alpha. He could only feel his thoughts sharpening to surprising clarity and control as he read the situation in dragel terms.

Wounded, willing, but young Submissive in his arms, proud, willing, but anguished Pareya standing in front of him.

Hm.

Severus prided himself on the reality that he had always been a Slytherin to the core, even when he'd learned of his other heritage and such. He'd preened at the thought that Slytherins were better than any others that walked the halls of Hogwarts and beyond.

He had, because Slytherins were everything good that he wanted to be. Smart as a whip, dark as the night and swifter than death by revenge with a silver, honeyed tongue that was just as much a weapon as their own twisted brand of magic.

Above all, they were jealous, possessive bastards with cold, calculating minds, some things that were sometimes called character flaws of which Severus knew he'd had in abundance.

So when he realized what was being offered to him, it only took the other half of that split-second to react. He'd managed a lifetime of quick thinking in the space of a heartbeat. Suddenly, the man's instructions to hold Draco close, made sense.

He could already see how this would end and while he did not like it, it did not mean that he had to fight it. This would be a good test to see if the touchy Pareya was all that it claimed to be, for he could smell no battle on it nor see any visible proof of wagers won. While Pareyas did not parade their battle scars, he knew what to look for as proof that one was well-seasoned.

This one bore nothing whatsoever and he would like to know why, perhaps, because it spoke as if it had such experience.

His jaws ached as his fangs fully lengthened and without ceremony, Severus lunged forward and buried his face in the sticky, bloody wound on that pale neck. He was careful to hold Draco to him with one hand, to sandwich him protectively between them. He relished the scent and taste of fresh blood that could only come from a dragel source.

It had been years since he'd had such a taste.

He drank deeply and greedily, cutting off the Pareya's instinctual whine with a low growl. He made a rumbling sound in his chest, feeling those slender fingers knotting in the fabric of his robe, two hands resting on his chest, boxing in Draco and clutching him for support.

Severus poured his intent and magic into the bite, turning it from a mere feeding into an Alpha's claim upon a worthy Bonded. He had sampled enough to know all that he needed to. When there was no way to examine magic, blood spoke.

This man, had said much, in the space of several stomach-filling pulls of life-giving blood.

Draco whimpered between them and Severus withdrew, licking his lips and laving over the slowly healing cut to urge it to heal faster. He then turned his attention to the pained blond and gave a few short, kitten licks to the dirt-smeared face.

A soft, mewling sound from Draco was Severus's gift for his attentions and he hummed, pleased, now pushing back enough to brace Draco against his newly claimed Pareya. It was only a temporary claiming mark, a true claim could not be made until they were of agreement and a matter of dominance settled between them, but for now, it would do.

Severus pressed hasty, open-mouthed kisses along the cool column of Draco's neck before he licked once, twice and bit down harshly.

Draco's keening cry was swallowed by the kiss of his Pareya, when the newly claimed dragel took his own chance to place his own mark upon their shared Submissive. While Severus had proudly taken the neck, the Pareya had quieted Draco with a few consoling kisses, then bit delicately into an exposed bicep, courtesy of a torn robe sleeve.

When he'd made his mark how he'd liked it, Severus withdrew, licking his lips and laving over the mark to urge it to heal as he done before. Then, he took his own turn at kissing those parted, slightly swollen lips and willing his magic to heal, help and share warmth with the chilled body pressed against him.

A contented sound, that might have been a purr, slipped from Draco's lips as his head lolled backwards to rest on their Pareya's chest. He hadn't initiated anything, but Severus understood it for what it was worth.

This was the first step. He would not take things any further until they were all clear-headed and coherent.

The Pareya whined and Severus reared back, his dark eyes flashing, the air whipping about them for a moment as he processed the request. The Pareya appeared to be quiet serious about the initial claim, asking to place his own claim mark.

Severus scowled, darkly, ignoring the nervous shuffling of the vampires and taking in the Pareya's lowered gaze and protective hold on Draco. He reached forward and felt his shoulders ache and burn with a sensation he hadn't felt in years.

He grimaced as his wings burst from his back in a flurry of fabric, magic and a hiss of pain. They were broad and heavy, just as he remembered them to be and they had come out to ensure that he was the most powerful being present in the forest circle. This was important, it always was whenever Bonding was to be, but this time, this time, Severus did not push away the instinctive urge to preen.

Stretching his neck to show the unmarked skin and rolling his shoulders to show off those impressive wings, Severus gave a haughty glare to the bright red eyes of their vampire audience. He would allow no one to witness what he would grant this Pareya.

His wings curved forward, impressive and dark, temporarily shielding them all from view as he traced a shape on his newly bared torso. _Here, _he prompted, mentally.

A ripple of surprise washed over him, but Severus ignored it, realizing it was a reaction from the newly initiated mental link between them. _If you must, then here._

The Pareya hesitated, then inclined its head in a gesture of respect and controlled submissive. _I must and I request._

The age-old phrases seemed awkward and clumsy, but Severus remained still and unmoving as he felt a tentative lap along his collarbone, then the sharp, piercing pain of fangs notching in his skin. He felt the draw and pull of his blood being taken and understood what it meant.

A moment later, he growled, to halt any more than three mouthfuls of his own blood.

The Pareya whined, then withdrew, mouth bloody and fangs gleaming in the speckled light of the forest.

Pure lust shot through him and Severus growled, reaching out to grab that head of dark brown hair and yank it closer for a ravishing, dominating kiss. He felt the Pareya's hands scrabble lightly at his chest, then still, closing carefully around Draco once more.

He rumbled reassuringly in his chest and then stiffened, feeling the vampires drawing closer. He jerked, instinctively to the side, his wings parting to show their audience once more, now that the privacy was no longer needed. He snatched Draco back to him, on principle. Pareya or not, Submissive or not, there were some things that instinct could not quite override.

The Pareya blinked, dazed and content, almost, before blue-grey eyes turned completely grey. A feral hiss escaped his lips as he took in the new positions of their fanged would-be attackers.

"Stay back!" He warned, half-hiss, half-voice. "Or I shall not be held responsible."

Ripples of dissention moved through their ranks and the vampire leader wrinkled his nose, a pale imitation of human snobbery, before his head tipped forward—the final signal.

Severus screeched in fury, recognizing the signal for what it was just as his new Pareya twisted fully to stand to protectively in front of him and Draco. He hissed his displeasure—he was Alpha, he would not stand behind his Pareya like a frightened-!

The Pareya turned enough to give him a truly surprising roar of disapproval.

Severus made a disgruntled noise in answer, too surprised to reply immediately. This Pareya had dared tell him to stand down.

He saw why, a second later.

_Eyes…_ Severus heard the Pareya's voice in his head, a single word, a single command. There was more weight in it than he'd ever known in his life, up to now. This was asking trust on little more than pure instinct.

Severus closed his eyes and turned Draco's face directly into his chest, feeling the soft, faint puffs of breath on his bared, scaled skin.

* * *

**A/N: Terius did NOT trick Severus here, his warning is just that, so that Severus won't be surprised when he's yanked out of control by his instincts. Both of them are mostly rational here, Severus more so, as he realizes that he doesn't want to "take" Draco, without being absolutely sure that they are all on the same page. There is absolutely NO dub-con or non-con otherwise that will happen between them, ever. As both Severus and Terius have noted, this is something serious and private and not to be taken lightly. **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thanks for reading! New chapter of TBDH is coming this week! :) Leave a review if you like, it makes me more inclined to continue writing about our lovely mismatched trio. **


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